


How to care for your Witcher

by Attenia



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Geralt knows what it means to be touched - it means something is attacking him. Jaskier is determined to convince him otherwise.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 216





	How to care for your Witcher

Geralt was unsaddling Roach when he felt it. A hand on his shoulder.  
He spun around, grabbing the hand and pulling its owner off balance. He was just about to break the wrist when he realized it was Jaskier.  
“Woah, excessive much? Relax, Geralt.”  
“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”  
“I wasn’t sneaking. I was just trying to get your attention.”  
“By attacking me?”  
Jaskier frowned. “I didn’t attack you. I just touched your shoulder.”  
“Well don’t do it again.”  
Jaskier was still frowning. He put a tentative hand on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt flinched and slapped the hand away. He knew now that it was only Jaskier, but it was still hard to override the instincts his body had learned over decades of being a witcher. Being touched meant something was attacking him. An attack meant defend or die.  
“Wait. Just let me try this.”  
“Try WHAT?” Geralt was quickly losing patience with this game.  
“Humor me.”  
“Fine,” Geralt huffed. He stood still as Jaskier put a hand on his shoulder once more.  
“How often does anyone touch you, Geralt?”  
“Monsters get hold of me all the time.”  
“I don’t mean that. I mean a touch that isn’t hostile.”  
Geralt tried to remember, but he couldn’t. “What does it matter?”  
“It matters because humans and witchers aren’t as different as everyone thinks – I’ve been your friend for long enough to know that. You need this.”  
“No, I don’t,” Geralt snarled. He didn’t like Jaskier’s hand there. Didn’t like it at all. Geralt was seldom afraid, and when he was, it was for good reason. His brain seemed to have forgotten about good reasons. He was close to panicking, as though a monster had him around the throat. But this wasn’t a monster. It was just a hand.  
“Are you ok?” Jaskier asked quietly. He had no doubt noted the hitch in Geralt’s breathing.  
“I’m fine.” Geralt pulled away, sighing in relief when Jaskier’s hand left his shoulder.  
Jaskier wasn’t about to let this go. “You need human connection, Geralt – both physical and emotional.”  
“Why? I manage fine as I am.”  
“You’re alive, sure, but are you really happy? Content?”  
“I’m alive. That’s what counts.”  
Jaskier shook his head, but didn’t argue.  
He didn’t bring up the issue again for several weeks. 

A group of elves had taken them both hostage. Geralt was injured and had to lean on Jaskier as they escaped. The moment they had gotten a good distance away and made a safe camp, Geralt pulled away from the touch. Jaskier silently handed him his bag. Geralt liked to take care of his own injuries.  
Geralt looked shaken. They had been held hostage for over a week, and very nearly didn’t escape before they were executed. Jaskier didn’t know exactly what had happened to Geralt, as they had been in separate cells, but he was fairly sure the witcher had been tortured.  
Once Geralt was done with treating his injuries, Jaskier moved over to sit next to him. He knew he was risking getting clouted, but he desperately wanted to comfort Geralt. How long could the man go without any kind of physical connection before he finally snapped?  
Jaskier slowly put an arm around Geralt.  
Geralt flinched violently and tried to pull away, but Jaskier grabbed his arm before he could do it.  
“Just be still, Geralt, please.”  
Geralt grumbled something under his breath that Jaskier couldn’t hear. Jaskier could feel Geralt’s heart rate steadily increasing. He was breathing faster too. What was wrong? There was nothing to be worried about anymore, now that they were free.  
“What is it?”  
“Don’t like this,” Geralt mumbled.  
“Why not?”  
“It feels too – I don’t know. Exposed, I guess.”  
“Just go with it. Here lean against me.”  
Geralt did as he was told. He sniffed, turning his face away from Jaskier. Was he crying? He was certainly trembling. Jaskier wondered again when was the last time he’d been touched by someone who didn’t want to kill him.  
“It’s ok,” Jaskier said softly. “It’s ok to need this. You’re safe with me.”  
Geralt was now taking deep, steadying breaths. They were quiet for a long time. Finally, Geralt sat up straight, averting his eyes.  
“I don’t want to be weak.”  
“You think this makes you weak?”  
“Of course it does.”  
“Why?”  
He couldn’t seem to think of an answer for that. Jaskier smiled in triumph. Geralt was always the one saving him from various monsters, but at least Jaskier could take care of his witcher in this small way. 

The next time was a few weeks later. Geralt and Jaskier had gotten back from a hunt. Jaskier was strumming idly on his lute, working out the next ballad of their adventures.  
Geralt suddenly stood up and moved over to Jaskier’s bed, sitting down beside him. Jaskier looked up. “Geralt?”  
Geralt didn’t say anything. He stared at his knees.  
“Are you ok?”  
“I’m fine. I just – you said people needed – but it’s stupid, I knew it was –”  
Jaskier suddenly realized what this was about. Geralt wanted to be touched again, but of course, he wouldn’t ask. The bard put an arm around his witcher. Geralt sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.  
This time, he didn’t look panicky, but he still didn’t seem completely comfortable. He had definitely initiated it, though, and that was progress.  
“Can I try something?”  
Geralt tensed. “What?”  
“Just let me try. You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”  
“Fine.”  
Jaskier leaned close and pressed his lips against Geralt’s. Geralt didn’t pull back, which was encouraging. Jaskier kissed him slowly, enjoying the feeling of Geralt’s lips against his. He’d fantasized about it so many times, but somehow, none of his imaginings had ever gotten close to the reality.  
Geralt groaned and grabbed Jaskier’s tunic, pulling him roughly against his chest.  
“No.” Jaskier moved away. “We’re not doing it like that – like it’s mechanical and means nothing. I’m trying to show you tenderness, Geralt.”  
“What, exactly, do you want from me, Jaskier?”  
“I want you to let me show you that human contact can be tender and soft as well as pleasurable. Just lie back, Geralt. Let me show you.”  
Geralt stared at him for so long that Jaskier thought he would turn him down, but eventually, the witcher nodded. He lay back, once more tense.  
Jaskier started undressing him slowly, kissing each inch of skin as it was exposed. Once Geralt was completely naked, Jaskier took off his own clothes. He crawled between Geralt’s legs. Geralt’s cock was hard and standing up proudly.  
Jaskier wanted that cock inside him, but not tonight. Tonight was all about Geralt.  
He started by massaging Geralt’s balls, moving slowly up to stroke his cock. Geralt moaned and thrust into Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier pressed little kisses to his cock, finally licking the tip, tasting the salty precome.  
He ran his hands up and down Geralt’s sides, watching the witcher shiver. Jaskier licked at his nipples before kissing him again, slowly and deeply. Their cocks rubbed together with delicious friction. Geralt started thrusting upward, but Jaskier put a hand on his hip.  
“No, Geralt. Tonight, let me lead.”  
Geralt growled in frustration, but acquiesced.  
Jaskier finally moved down to his cock. He took the whole length into his mouth. Geralt moaned as Jaskier started sucking, using his hand to work the base of the cock where his mouth couldn’t reach.  
He eventually took pity on Geralt and picked up the pace a bit, allowing the witcher to thrust upward.  
Jaskier fought his gag reflex, taking Geralt deep into the back of his throat. Geralt finally came with a loud cry, thrusting three more times before going limp.  
Jaskier’s cock was aching with need, but that could be taken care of later. He crawled back up so that he was level with Geralt and rested his head on the witcher’s shoulder, throwing an arm over his stomach.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Cuddling. It’s what most people do after making love.”  
“Is that what we were doing?”  
“I don’t know, Geralt. I know how I feel. I’m not too sure about you.”  
“You do know,” Geralt said quietly. “Do you think I’d let anyone else do this?” He gestured down to the two of them. Their bodies fit in perfectly against each other.  
Jaskier smiled and kissed him. Geralt returned the kiss for a few moments before shifting so that they were more comfortably settled into each other.  
“I want a repeat. Tomorrow.”  
“Your wish is my command, oh witcher. My love.”  
Jaskier blushed, but Geralt grinned so widely that any embarrassment faded quickly. The two of them fell asleep smiling, still entwined in each other’s arms.


End file.
